


Armored Hart

by Draconicforests



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I forgot to add that, I have no excuses anymore, M/M, Slow Burn, already spoken for originally but like doesn't last the entire fic, i don't know how to tag, i'll stop, please end my suffering, solas is a bad egg, the long haul - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23775298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draconicforests/pseuds/Draconicforests
Summary: Krem has always been a very direct person. He does his job and he doesn't get distracted. So what happens when suddenly the fade is being pulled into this world and the Iron Bull seems to think joining the inquisition is a good idea. Elven women are a hazard to mental health. Especially when they're already interested in a man that isn't you, and happen to be the younger sister of the herald of Andraste.
Relationships: Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Original Character(s), Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Iron Bull/Original Female Character(s), Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**~chapter one~**   
**“Krem”**

Thedas was a mess. Everyone knew it. No one could seem to much about it, though. The explosion in the chantry, the holes in the sky opening up and spewing vile creatures into this world, political hostility at an all time high. The cherry on top? Someone being hailed as "the herald of Andraste" after seeing a feminine form deliver them from one of the rifts. They were being hailed. That meant all attention on them, and it meant a good chance for employment for a certain group of mercenaries led by a hulking horned beast of a man named the Iron Bull. If he had been interested, it meant his people were interested as well. Not that it mattered much to his men.

Gold was gold.

This opened up to the current situation: Investigating and seeking out the herald.

The sounds of people bustling were loud, almost deafening as the inhabitants of Haven scurried about their business. prepping meals, training soldiers, bounding herbs for medicinal use. None of it was very out of place for Krem, but the dark auburn haired soldier still found himself in awkward unease. 

“Excuse me I--” He began, calling out to a chantry girl as she clutched a basket close to her chest. She wouldn’t pay him any mind as she scurried off the moment the words left his lips. A small grunt of disapproval would fill his lungs, frustration thick as he rolled his eyes.

turning himself he’d spot a soldier not far from the door of the chantry idly stroking a raven’s chest as he hummed a particular tune. He was about a head shorter than Krem, he’d note, though that was expected when the soldier was an elf “I’m looking for--” 

“Ain’t got time for you.” The soldier would say simply as he pushed off, setting the raven free and allowing it to take to the skies.

“I’m just--”

“I said I ain’t got time for you.” a low rumble would emanate from the chest of the soldier as he made his way towards the tavern. Of course, that’s where everyone went in their free time. Krem was fixed to go there next, that is if he couldn’t get anyone’s attention.

Shoulders would slump lightly as the armored man reached to rub the back of his neck. It was the Chief's idea to send him here, said something about it looking bad if a qunari walked into the place, especially one that held the title of ‘Ben-hassrath’. It would put people on edge. In truth, it seemed other people didn’t take well to outsiders easily here in any case. They were too on edge, too focused. It was hard to get a say in when literally no one would pay any mind.

A small laugh would ring out behind the mercenary, drawing his attention. It was soft, sweet almost. Rang like a bell and stuck with you twice as long. Turning his gaze to the source he’d find yet another elf, this one holding a basket of vegetables in her arms; they looked fresh picked, impressive for the time of year. That wasn’t what he was drawn to, though. No, this girl was small. Small and soft looking, with a round face framed by soft golden curls that contrasted with sun kissed skin lined with freckles and danced around her face and mid-back in gentle waves. Krem wasn’t one to sit and stare, but it had taken him off guard somewhat. How a sweet thing like that would just show up was beyond him.

“You look like you’re having some trouble. Can I help?” She asked, voice more gravelly than Krem had thought it would be given the laugh. 

Blinking the man would feel as if the air was kicked from his chest, and a firm nod was drawn out “Yes, I-- well I’m looking for whoever’s in charge.” He’d explain awkwardly as he allowed his hand to fall from his neck. “No one here will give me the time of day.”

“ooh. yeah. That sounds about right. Your armor doesn’t look like you came from sir Fluffball, you must be new, yeah? People don’t like new, well..unless they have food.” she would motion towards the basket in her arms carefully.

“Something like that sounds about right.”

“Right, well, give me five minutes to drag his royal highness out and I’ll have him speak with you. sound good?” 

Wait, she knew him? Part of Krem wanted to push and figure out what exactly that meant, but he was honestly just happy to not have to go back empty handed. The paths were too cold, and Bull wouldn’t be happy with the results. The mercenary would offer a small nod of his head and watched as the blonde elf offered him a wink and a quick turn and a bounce to her step, handing off her basket to a chantryman along the way and speaking softly to him. A smile would grace his older features and he’d reach to pat the girl on the shoulder, praising her gently. Was..she important here? Had he just made a fool of himself?

Krem would never know as he watched her vanish into the building through ornate double doors. He would kick himself internally, wishing he had asked sooner who she was, but the thoughts were left by the wayside as the doors would creak open again after a short moment of wait. From the old stone building a hulk of a man, With dark grey skin and curled horns that spiraled backwards set firmly atop his skull stepped out. A qunari, well, Krem hadn’t been expecting that. Maker, he was tall. Likely as tall as Krem’s boss. That was saying something.

The grey skinned man would look around a bit, confusion lining his face. 

“Ah-- Excuse me!” Krem would call out softly drawing the copper haired man’s gaze. “I’m here to deliver a message on behalf of my employer. We'd like to offer our services to your cause."

"Maker..is that what she was on about? Alright, what can you do?" The man drawled softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

That..wasn't what Krem had been expecting. Not in the slightest.

"We're a mercenary group. We're stationed currently at the storm coast. Before you decide come see what we can do and then judge." Said Krem as he offered a small bow to the other. "You won't be disappointed."

"Well, with men as confident as you, I can't see how I can be. I'll be there. Now, if you'll excuse me." The herald would breathe softly before sidestepping the other, smaller man and made his way out. Krem would watch for a moment marveling at the fact that a qunari of all people would be picked as the herald. He couldn't miss the irony of that. What he almost missed, though, was the elf from before. Slipping from the door and catching his eye while slinking off towards the direction of a cluster of houses. Krem could only open his mouth to speak and flush as words failed to come.

With a shake of his head the mercenary would close his jaw before tearing off to head back. Elven women were a hazard to his health, it would seem. At least mentally.

\---------------

“Well, how was it?” A grunt would fall from the lips of a hulking grey mass of muscle as a red garbed soldier was thrust back with a swing of his weapon. The wide horned man, shirtless in all his glory, baring his scars to the world would look back to the smaller form of Krem, who struggled with his own opponent.

A grunt followed by “went fine” would be heard as his hammer swung into the chest of the rogue he had been locked in battle with, sending him flying into wet sand. 

“What’s he like?” The Bull would chime with a hearty laugh as another soldier tried to take him from the side, only for Krem to launch the massive head of his battle hammer into the enemy, releasing a small hiss as he nearly lost his grip on the rain soaked handle. The blow was enough to dispatch the enemy, but it still felt wrong. The Tevinter man knew he could do better than that.

The pair of men would stand, panting softly as they caught their breath after a long day of hunting down these bastards lining the beaches of the coast. Originally they had been paid to handle this and make it survivable by those living around the coast, however, with their position came knowledge of the conclave and what happened during the gathering. It was imposing enough to garner the Qunari man’s attention and hopefully would bring in enough coin that it would make it worthwhile. Though, by now Krem knew there was more to it than that. He didn’t ask too much on that. It didn’t really matter.

Straightening his armor, and wincing slightly as his binding caused his rain soaked muscles to protest, Krem would huff and turn a stoic gaze towards his employer and friend. “Big. He’s like you.”

“Ah, devilishly good looking?” a cracked smile would play on the rough man’s face.

“No, qunari.”

Bull would pause before his scarred features would twist into confusion. He hadn’t expected that. Then again, most of his sources were hush hush right now. Nothing in or out about the man, at least where race was concerned. Not many had seen him, so there wasn’t much to go on. It would be a few days before Bull had any solid contact with his sources, so a little surprise and hiccup wasn’t unexpected. “You’re sure?”

“No, chief. He was a short little nug with floppy ears. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Interesting” The Iron Bull would muse softly “You said he’s big like me? Hard to imagine. Not many come in my size. Especially not Tal-vashoth. Must have good parentage.”

“Donno, didn’t ask.” Krem would shrug as he allowed the stone head of his hammer to lodge into the sand. “Seemed decent enough. Did you have anything on people who would know him? There was a girl there that helped me. An elf woman, blonde.” pretty green eyes like the forest and a laugh like bells. Krem had to cringe internally at those thoughts. That wasn’t for him to say. He wasn’t the type to get caught up on something like that, at least in front of the Chief.

“Oh, taking help from little girls, now?” Bull would smirk before thinking about it. “No, can’t say that rings any bells. Was she pretty? Could use some eye candy to sweeten the deal.” The massive bull horned man would rumble joyfully with a small shake of his head. “You should thank her when they come.” He’d add softly, catching sight of one of the other Chargers, Dalish, giving the okay to set up camp.

“You think she’s going with him?”

Bull would shrug “If she’s important enough, she’ll be there. just makes sense.”

‘If she was important enough’ those words kinda stuck with Krem. Truth be told he had a gut feeling about her. Something Krem generally had gifted. He could tell certain types, tell whether they were someone you wanted to keep around. He had felt it back when he was serving his time back home in Tevinter, back when Bull charged in after a particularly harsh fight. It just felt right to follow him afterwards. That was the gut feeling Krem would often live his life by, and so far it hadn’t served him wrong. The Herald wasn’t bad people, and neither was that elven girl.

The chestnut haired man would puff his chest out before nodding slightly towards his boss, taking off to follow him shortly after the Iron Bull made his way off to go set up camp with the others. ‘if she was important’ still stuck in his head as he did so.

\------------

Battles took forever, but kept the mind sharp. At least Krem liked to think so. There were times when his mind would wander and he would struggle with the little things, like remembering foot stance. Though, it never affected him quite so much that it made him ineffective at his job. There was a reason for Krem’s position within the chargers. He was good at what he did, which was to say good in a decent scrap and take orders to the T. Military training and all that helped greatly in that.

Spinning around, the armored man would slam his hammer into the stomach of a venatori soldier, sending the red armored man flying into an archer not far off. Behind him he could hear the grunts and calls of others as the other members of the chargers worked their asses off to clear the beaches. It was all the same, simply a different day.

“Shit--” Krem would hiss as an arrow narrowly missed him, instead it lodged into the shoulder of one of his companions.

Raising the hammer above his head, the Tevinter man would allow the force of the hammer to fall back down into the earth with a slam before propelling himself at the enemy, landing a kick directly into the center of the chest. An arrow would fly, notching directly into the chest of the soldier, serving the finishing blow before Krem could see to it. It also narrowly missed the soldier by an inch. 

Raising a brow he'd turn to face a square jawed dwarven man wielding a crossbow. He’d offer a small nod to Krem before jaunting off to assist a slew of other newcomers. A Raven haired human warrior, a bald headed Dalish mage, and the herald himself; who now donned armor that better fit him than the light grey and tan tunic and slacks he had worn previously when Krem had met him. The group seemed more than content in mowing down the venatori stragglers and finishing off the fight. That was fine by Krem, less work he had to do.

“Chargers, stand down!” Came The Iron Bull’s gruff cry. 

Krem could almost hear the group groan in unison as they lowered their weapons and slowly gave into fatigue. This was more or less a show to prove what they could do, however, it was exhausting work, and some of the newer men didn’t exactly approve of how hard they were driven.

“Krem,” Bull directed his attention towards the tenvinter man, who’s spine would straighten almost instinctively in response “How’d we do?”

Casting a glance to the rest of their team, a quick tally would be made in his head. Not that it mattered, he was confident that he knew the answer even without doing a final tally. His job was to keep track of where others were and to relay that information back to the boss. “five or six wounded, Chief. No dead.”

Bull would rumble slightly before offering a nod “That’s what I like to hear, let the throat cutters finish up and break out the casks.” With that The Bull would turn to speak with the Herald, who was quick to step past, damn near brushing up against Krem in the process. He still couldn’t get over how bloody tall this man was. Like a wall, really.

As the brunette haired warrior turned to observe the others and make sure the job was done right he couldn’t help but observe the group standing off to the side allowing the head of the party to speak with the head Charger. No girl. It shouldn’t have been that bit a hit to his chest but somehow Krem was almost hoping to see her. What kind of fighter would she be, he wondered. Probably a rogue. She was small, nimble looking. Could probably slip by and slit throats with no problem.

“Drink?” he’d hear the familiar call of Dalish, an elven ‘rogue’ as she stood by one of the casks, which was being opened with horribly improper tools. Who was Krem to judge? What good is an axe if it couldn’t open things?

Casting a look over his shoulder a pale grimace would fall upon his features only to be replaced by an apologetic look “Maybe not this moment. Save some, though. Don’t go drinking yourself stupid like you usually do.” He’d chime before turning on his heel and trudging off to rejoin Bull, leaving the others to shrug and Dalish to offer a rude gesture once his back was fully turned.

“I assume you remember my lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi.” The larger man would chime while motioning towards Krem as he approached.

A small nod was all either man could offer, but Krem would push it a bit farther “Nice to see you again” He’d grant with a small smile “The throat cutters are done, Chief.”

“Already? Have them check again, I don’t want any of those Tevinter bastards getting away- No offense, Krem.”

A small laugh would fall from the Tevinter man’s lips before he offered a small helpless look “Ah, none taken. At least a bastard knows who his mother was. Puts them one up on you Qunari, right?” The warrior would rumble softly while wrinkling his nose and making to ensure the others had done their jobs. Not that he particularly thought the others didn’t do their jobs. An order was an order. Besides, somehow standing besides two men who dwarf yourself did a number on your self confidence.

Pacing his way through the sands, it wouldn’t be long before a small figure made his way to Krem’s side. 

“Sorry for the shot. Thought you’d move out of the way.” The gruff dwarf from before would rumble teasingly as he notched the weapon on his back and smoothed over blonde hair. “Wind and all that.”

“Wind? I’ll remember to keep my distance next time.” 

“You’re blunt. Interesting. Kit made it sound like you were a lost puppy. Good to know.” The dwarf would bark out a soft laugh. “Your group’s been driving Bigs up a wall. But, I’m sure you’ll see why soon.”

“Up a wall? Well, that’s certainly not a first for us.” Krem would huff. “Can’t imagine why his holiness would be offended by the chargers.”

“It’s who you spoke to rather than what you’re doing. Name’s Varric, by the way.”

“Cremisius, just Krem is fine.” Krem would offer a small nod towards the dwarf. “I’d love to know who I spoke to that riled him up.” Playing dumb wasn’t a good look for Krem, he knew it. Still, if it would get him a name he was willing to do this little act.

“Big’s younger sister. Fenneth. Good kid, a little too excited, though. I’d drive myself half mad if I were in Oremay’s boots.”

“Younger--”

“Krem, tell the men to finish drinking on the road. The chargers just got hired.” Bull called from down the beach.

Dismay washed over Krem as he cast a single glance towards the other Chargers, the likes of which were already drinking from the open casks. “Aw Boss...they've already opened them-- with axes." Krem would call.

"Tell 'em to find a way to close 'em up and head out."

Poor Krem couldn't help but groan softly as he nodded and turned to the group whom had already begun drinking. This was going to be a very long trip.


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter two**   
**"Fenneth"**

“Fenneth, up. We haven’t got all day, child.” A soft voice would scold, breaking through the dawn and earning a small groan from a lump of blankets in the center of a small wooden bed set against the wall under a window. “If you don’t get up I’ll have to eat your portion of breakfast and take the harvest to Haven myself. Maybe your brother would be more pleased to see me than you.”

Another groan would erupt from the blankets as a figure rose gently, fabric sliding off it’s head and into the figure’s lap to reveal a golden head of hair attached to a small tanned form of an elven woman. With a small whine she’d reach to mess with the unruly mop of waves before allowing her hands to run over delicate facial features. 

“Fenneth.”

“I know, Mammah. I’m up.” she’d call softly while swinging her legs over the side of the bed and meeting with the cold stone floor under her feet.

The room was small, with two beds, a dresser by the door, and just enough room for the inhabitants to enter and exit. The bed beside Fenneth’s was left bare, the inhabitant long since left for bigger and better things leaving the elf behind. Blankets and pillows that once belonged on there now resided on her side in her bed. Piled around strategically so that she didn’t feel so alone sleeping in their shared childhood room.

But that was neither here nor there. Keeping the good natured mother of the house waiting wasn’t the best idea. It meant that Fenn would get left behind and would be stuck with stable duty. Harts shat way too much.

Shaking off the remainders of sleep the Elven girl would pad lightly to the dresser, reaching for a shirt in the slightly open drawer before pulling out an oversized tunic that was at least three times too big for her. With a belt wrapped high around her waist and a single pair of leather leggings the woman was out the door of the room and into the warm inner sanctum of the cottage she shared with her mother.

Said woman was busy with preparing a lunch for Fenneth while also putting the finishing touches on the meals.

She was a large woman, far larger than any Fenn had seen in her lifetime. With dark grey-ish pink skin and pale blonde locks that ran bone straight down her sides ending at her mid back. Where two large horns should have sat there were only gold tipped covers on a flat plane. Scars littered her body, and one could see that clearly from the sleeveless tunic she wore. Fenneth never knew how or where she got them specifically, only that she had them and had seen terrible things in her time.

In a word, Serem was ideal. Strong muscles and a gentle sort of pride. The perfect mother in Fenneth’s eyes. 

Though, that was a hard one to stand by given that this was the only mother she knew.

The blonde qunari would turn her emerald gaze towards Fenneth, quirking a single pale brow at her eagerness to get up. “Only two warnings? What occasion has my little one so excited?” She’d chime gently while placing a hearty plate of meat on the table behind her, minding how close she was to it. It was a gentle sort of practiced ease with how Serem moved around their tiny house.

“Not excited. Just want to get out.” Fenn would breathe softly as she reached for an apple pastry and eagerly dug in, completely unaware of how many crumbs would fall onto her chest and face, or how uncivilized she looked.

“I see. I’m making druffalo stew for your meal today. Do not give it to the hart again.” Serem warned.

“But he’s hungry! Mammah, we don’t feed him nearly enough.”

“No buts. That damned beast eats better than we do sometimes with you sneaking him treats.” There was no hostility in her voice, but the qunari woman meant it. “Now hurry and eat. I’ve already placed enchantments on your coat to warm you and I’ve packed a pie for your brother. Make sure he gets it this time, Fenn.”

“Yes Mammah.”

\-------------------------

The stables were cold, but then again such was the ways of Ferelden. The small Elf would shiver slightly under the chilled morning air as she gently padded through, the leather of her boots slapping against the mud slightly as she made her way to the stables. Arms full of hay intended for the beasts inside, though most of it stuck to her hair and made it near impossible to work with.

Slipping past the doors, Fenneth would nudge them open with her shoulder before stepping into the stables. Inside were three beasts, A halla which acted as her own mount, a simple black horse with a warm face of brown that once belonged to her brother, and a larger animal known as a hart. 

It was always funny to Fenn how similar the halla and hart were. The hart was a massive beast with a hefty set of antlers, a warm coat of brown fur and stripes on its rear. The halla also bore antlers, though theirs curved and danced like vines weaving through a tree branch. Unlike the hart, the halla’s fur was a delicate white, pure like untouched snow. She was fond of her beast, and often would sneak in to consult with Ventri on a near daily basis, but it was the hart that had the elven girl’s heart (If you could forgive the play on words).

The halla was the first to show up, pressing in and snorting gently at the Elven girl earning a giggle. 

“Hush Ventri. It’s not your turn to come with me.” She cooed softly as a gentle hand would reach and stroke the warm beast’s fur. “Pretty thing..I’ll have to leave you behind, alright? Next time I’ll be sure that we can spend some time ripping through the forests. kay?” The beast would watch her, almost as if it were weighing it’s options in it’s mind before snorting and pushing against it’s stall door to get a mouthful of hay.

A gentle laugh would fall from her lips as she gave Ventri a firm pat on the neck, being sure to leave him some food for the day before she slipped deeper in. Next came the Horse. A lonely old thing, the horse that Serem used to ride in her mercenary days before she settled down. It was given to Oremay in hopes that he could make trips to and from the market in Serem’s place. Sadly that didn’t seem to span out. The old stallion would huff at Fenn, expectantly waiting for it’s food, which she would provide quickly. Only their mother and her brother seemed to have a way with the beast. He scared Fenneth far too much.

finally came to the hart. “mornin’ Gerhalt. Ready for another day” fenneth would chime softly as she slid the hay over the door, stepping quickly to pluck the reigns from beside the stall and the blanket hanging off the door “We have a big day, I’m going to convince him to let me stay this time.”

Gerhalt would simply snort at her, as if to scold her for even thinking such things.

“No, no! Hear me out! Mother has you trained! You know the way, why do I have to ride you all the way there pulling the cart. Can’t you just-- I don’t know, go on your own?” Fenn would ask as she reached to unlock the door and slip inside to begin prepping him. “You and Ventri are smart. You know the ways. Just protect one another.”

the beast seemed disinterested in this conversation as he leant down to eat his breakfast. Fenneth knew better, she knew that her brother would never agree to keep her there. ‘too much danger’, ‘you’re not built for fighting, Fenny’, or ‘I’m the man of the house, you’ll do as I say’ were all things he liked to use. Though, he never said them out of anger or even maliciously. No, Orem was too sweet for that. He was gentle, even if he didn’t like to show it. So unlike Fenneth and her need to get out into the world.

It just wasn’t fair! How could he leave her here when he was out there fighting demons and closing the rift in the sky? Why couldn’t she do that?

“Solas says that there’s fight in me. He believes in me.” Fenneth would sigh softly as she smoothed the blanket over the back of the beast. “Why can’t Orem?”

A small snort would come from Gerhalt.

“Hush. You know what I mean. I can fight. I’ve been trained just as well as he has. What’s the difference between fighting wolves and going off to fight demons? He knows I’m just as capable as him.”

The hart would pause his eating to look back at her. Face like a kicked puppy, trying to process her feelings. She was sick of living here all her life. Sick of the notion that she would be a farm girl who was only good for having a baby and tending crops. She wanted excitement, adventure. She wanted more than just this sad sorry excuse for a life. 

Her eyes would drift off, staring hard through the blanket before the blonde would push forward and plop her face onto the hart’s side. “I want to help him.” She’d grumble softly with a light nuzzle. The hart in kind would crane its neck, leaving feather light kisses as it gently picked a piece of hay from her hair before munching on it. “You’re right, Gerhalt. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I’ll earn my day. Now, let’s go see Orem, yeah?”

\---------------------------

Haven bustled, just like it usually did. It would have been such a vibrant place if not for it being so small. Fenneth still adored it, though. Perched atop her mother's hart she would watch as the soldiers would train, bashing bucklers against swords and hammers against those. Under the watchful eye of commander Cullen, or Fluffy as Fenneth liked to call him (in part due to the massive fur lining he wore on his shoulders), they were essentially well oiled machines. Working in perfect harmony.

"Going in?" Cullen would call from his position outside the walls of Haven. "I see you have a delivery. We're fortunate to have people such as yourself." He would nod softly.

"Oh! Yeah, mother managed to scrape up more than we brought last time." Fenn would beam, shaking herself from the daze. "Am I bothering you? I can go." Pointing awkwardly away from the training grounds and towards the stables the long haired elf would sit helplessly under his hardened gaze.

"Not at all. It's good to know others take interest. Perhaps your brother will permit me to allow you to sit in. I could teach you a thing or two." The captain would smirk.

A bitter snort would rip through Fenn's nose before she wrinkled it "it's more likely to rain nugs from the sky." She'd comment playfully. "I would like that, though. I'll save some of the good stuff for your boys, kay'?." She beamed softly while offering a wave as she gave a firm nudge to the hart in order to get it moving towards the stables, the tarp covered wagon trailing behind with a small creak. She'd nearly missed the group of men stationed around the stables as she did. They were certainly new.

Once situated she would hop off, securing Gerhalt to a post and offering a small stretch and a pop of her spine. She'd round the wagon only to find a wall of a man already there bare chested and acting as if the cold didn't bother him, a much smaller one standing beside him as well only in full armor. The larger man, a Qunari would swivel his head and offer a small look "food goin' in? Quite a lot of it here." He'd greet as he reached to push the tarp off.

Poor Fenny stood there as if she were staring at a ghost. To be fair, it felt like it. Qunari didn't leave their lands and tal-vashoth, from what Serem had said, were few and far between. She'd quickly shake off the shock before an undignified squawk left her lips upon seeing him heft two crates up with ease and begin carrying them in.

"H-hey! Hold on! You can't just take those! I-"

"Relax. Chief means well. Figured you helped us, let us help you." The smaller man, the human, would chime in smoothly offering her a boyish smile.

Had she helped them? Fenneth wracked her brain as she tried to think of who exactly these people were. Oh! That's right. "The warrior from the chantry!" She cried out, her inner thoughts becoming her outer. Immediately the elven girl would slap her hands over her mouth and a deep crimson would bloom across her features. "I mean-- you were looking for my brother, right?"

"The same. Good to know I left a lasting impression." He teased playfully as he hauled a crate into his arms and offered a wink. "You looked like you might set yourself ablaze with how hard you were thinking." He chuckled while turning on his heel and making his way into Haven's walls.

Had she been that deep in thought? Wait, was he making fun of her?

Quickly grabbing a crate of her own Fenn was quick to rush after him. "That wasn't very nice. Next time maybe I won't help you." She would huff, puffing out her cheeks like a child before her features would soften "I'm Fenneth by the way. I take it you're with the inquisition now."

"Yeah, that about sums it up. Name's Krem."

"Like..'krem-brulee'?"

A deep rooted groan would fall from the warrior's lips as he cast a withering look her way. He couldn't help but hear the bark of laughter coming from Bull as he passed by the two. No doubt Krem would be hearing about this later.

"Sorry" Fenneth would apologize sweetly offering a small smile. “Varric likes to give nicknames, I’ve sort of adopted it.”

“Please don’t.” Krem would plead

“Alright, alright, just Krem then.” 

Making their way to the merchant, Fenneth would place the crate down gently and offer a small hum, taking a quick count. If they kept going at this pace--

Her thoughts were interrupted by the hulking qunari squeezing by them with four crates in his arms before plopping them down. Alright, then she supposed she wouldn’t need to make another trip.

“That it, little lady?” The qunari asked with a dull humorous rumble to his tone.

“Oh- uh, yes! Thank you, you’ve saved me a whole afternoon of trying to lug those around Mr--”

“Iron Bull. No need to thank us. Happy to help the inquisition.” Bull would rumble before leaning over and offering a small smirk “Besides, we owed you one. Can’t leave a good deed unpunished.”

A gentle smile would play on Fenn’s lips as she gave an enthusiastic nod “Of course! Happy to help in that case!” She’d beam gently. The Iron Bull would hum softly in approval before turning to lumber off in the general direction of the tavern leaving the elf and human alone together watching him. Slowly she’d lean over and offer a small nudge with her elbow, though the other didn’t need to redirect his gaze. He had already been staring hard at a stay piece of hay tangled in her locks. Took everything in him not to pluck it out of her hair. “So you’ll be around more, right?”

“Hm?”

“You and your boss. You’ll be around Haven, right?” Fenneth clarified, now turning her gaze to Krem’s. “It would be nice to have someone around that I can share dinners with.”

The human would stiffen before offering her a small nod “I- yes. Of course. I mean I’d love to share a meal with you, Fenneth.”

“Just Fenn is fine, please. I hate my full name.” The elf would grimace.

“I- alright then, Fenn. I’d love to share a meal with you sometime.”

“Great! Welp, in that case I’ll see you tonight? I’ll meet you there!” Stepping lightly Fenneth would round him, a slight hop in her step as she did so. The blonde would round him before getting a hopping start and jogging off. It was always towards the cluster of houses, to where she knew Solas would be.

\----------------

“If you stand there much longer, you’re going to wear a hole in what little grass there is.” Calm and cool. Voice like water while still being prim and proper. Fenneth stood awkwardly in the doorway of a hut, shifting slightly and fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. Inside stood a lithe figure, though he was tall and firm in stature. Elven in heritage-- no Dalish. That was the proper word. Elves like Fenn aren’t the same as the ones that live in the forests and move from place to place. They were wiser and sturdier. It made her a little jealous, if she was being honest.

Slowly the bald man would turn to her with gentle eyes, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You are aware you’re more than welcome here, da fenlin.” He breathed softly as he returned to the book clasped slightly in his hand.

Fenn couldn’t help but scoff at the nickname she had been given. Fen, she was aware, meant wolf. Little wolf. It felt like the kind of thing you’d call a child, but, somehow she didn’t mind it coming from this man. “I always feel like I’m bothering you.” She replied softly, slipping in and biting back a small groan at the kiss of the fire against cooled skin. Usually about this time of day the enchantments would wear off. She had others she could apply, but it wasn’t the same as a good old fashioned fire.

“I fail to see how your visits are a bother. Your..brother often visits as well when we are not preoccupied.” Solas would breathe through his nostril.

There was always the feeling that Solas hated little things like that. That Fenneth never had a life inside of a dalish clan. That she knew more about qunari than she did her own people. She would never ask about it, though. There was always sadness in those eyes, and part of her was scared of upsetting him.

biting her lip gently, Fenneth would reach into the small leather satchel attached to her belt and retrieved a small leather bound book. “Came to give you back your book.” She’d explain softly while her thumb traced over the cover. “And..to maybe ask for a new one.”

The narrow faced man would pause, eyes flicking up lightly as he examined her. it was almost like he was searching for something in her eyes or in her face. Fenn could never tell, not that she minded. It felt...good to have someone see her. She wasn’t the little elf girl being raised by a qunari mage, she wasn’t Orem’s kid sister looking to tag along, she was her. Eager to learn and ready to sit and listen for however long it took-- At least when it came to Solas.

It was almost embarrassing how eager Fenn was, how she wanted to learn about her people and how captivating she thought this man was. He was beautiful, sure, but there was something mysterious about him that had Fenneth wanting more.

“You understood everything?”

Cringing lightly Fenn’s eyes would drift to the fire as she watched it crackle and pop gently. “Most of it? I still don’t understand a lot of talk of gods, but I guess I can’t get it all in one try.”

Solas would nod as he stepped forward, dwarfing her in his shadow before gingerly taking the book from her hand “That you are willing to try alone, is commendable. Many wouldn’t.” He’d breathe gently. Maker, if he could simply praise her like that all day, Fenneth could die a happy woman. “Was there anything I could shed some light on?” With that he was gone, stepped away so that he could return the book to it’s shelf.

“Why is Fen'harel not in the books?”

Fenneth watched as the elf’s body stiffened, hands idle on the spine of some old dalish text translated into common. He’d look over his shoulder and watch her for a moment before shrugging “It’s considered bad luck. It is better you not speak of that one particular god.” he’d explain before his hands would continue his work, slender fingers dancing from spine to spine. “Where have you heard that name?”

“Ah- Well..I listen to a lot of the traders my mother deals with. Sometimes they say things. Fen'harel stood out to me. I asked one time and they said he was the ‘dread wolf’. I don’t know much outside of that.” Stepping carefully Fenneth would shrug and turn to the fire, reaching out to warm her hands. 

"Fenlin, I didn’t mean to scold. I was merely curious.” Solas would explain, eyes still not on her.

“I know. I’m just tired of things being left as ‘because they’re bad’ or ‘because I say so’. I want real answers.”

Solas would watch her for a moment before he stepped closer, reaching to gently brush slender fingers through her waves before retrieving a piece of hay. “perhaps you should focus on other things rather than what you cannot understand, Da Fenlin.” He would purr gently with that same barely there smile dancing on his lips and voice that made Fenn’s stomach do flips. As if his touching her wasn’t enough to send her over the edge and drive her off a damned cliff.

“I-” She was halted when a book was slid into her hands. This time, rather than a book that just vaguely glossed over the old gods, she was being given a book dedicated to entirely legends of gods. 

“I believe there are a few stories that would interest you in this one.” He’d say simply.

“thank you. I appreciate you doing this. I really do.”

“It’s nothing.” And with that he was gone. Just as distant as when she walked into his dwelling. Poor Fenn had to release a small breath she didn’t know she was holding. Shifting to take her leave, she’d pause before biting down on the inside of her cheek.

“Do you like apples?” She’d ask softly while turning towards him, the small tart her mother had made in hand.

Anything to just get a moment more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might take a break from this for a week or two, just so that I can get three more chapters done. As of now three was my last chapter ready for upload. I recently suffered some health complications and it made writing unbearable, BUUUUT I'm better now and I'm ready to get going again!

**Chapter three**   
**“Protection”**

Horses would paw anxiously at the ground, feeling something in the air that couldn't be seen. Some electrical charge that set the air ablaze and made it difficult to breathe. That was all Orem could remember. That and bits and pieces after being spat out of the fade. He could remember a woman extending her hand, urging him on. The feeling of wanting to escape, worry for his family, needing to get out and take care of them. It plagued Oremay's dreams and wracked him with guilt. There were so many things that didn't make sense that he had uncovered.

Pausing the large man would turn his gaze towards his cabin's door, slowly creaking open as a head of blonde locks poked through. "You're still up." Fenneth would chime as she slipped in, closing the door behind her as she went.

"And you're late." He'd muse softly, pushing the papers and plates on his desk away before rising.

"Lies. I'm not late, you're just early."

"Oh, yes, of course. How can I forget the world runs on Fenny time?" Orem would beam playfully with a small wink. The towering man would step forward before wrapping his arms around her small form, nose resting gently against her hair. "It's been too long."

"S'only been two days, you weirdo." Fenn would huff playfully while pulling from his grasp. It was always like this. Gentle, easy. For as long as either could remember it was just them. Had it not been for the difference in race and the year apart, the pair would have been confused for shadows of one another. Where one went the other was close behind, and there was always plenty of affection to go around. That sort of thing was important for their little family.

"Feels like longer without Mum's food. Do you have any?" The qunari man would say as he shifted and turned to get a hopeful glimpse of a homemade meal.

Poor Fenn could only raise her hands in defense "ah-- well y'see. I got attacked by wolves. At least ten of them! They attacked and wouldn't you know, they took the blasted pie!"

A strangled groan similar to Fenn's name fell from Orem's lips as he felt his head fall back.

"It's true!"

"I wish you would stop eating my food, Fenny. You know this whole inquisition business is murder."

Puffing out her cheeks lightly Fenneth would move to plop herself down on his bed, grunting lightly at the feeling of it. "It's fine. I'll bring you my lunch when I come again. Promise." She would shrug.

It took all of three seconds for Orem to look at her face and see the look. That particular look she would give him as a child, lip stuck out, eyes blown wide, head shrugged into one of her shoulders. She looked like a damned kicked pup, and it drove Orem up a wall. "No."

"You haven't even heard my pitch!"

Scoffing lightly Orem would turn on his heel, turning away from the smaller elf and turning back to his cluttered mess of a desk. “I don’t need to hear it, I’m entirely against any notion of you joining the inquisition. I didn’t want you coming here let alone showing up every other blasted day in order to deliver crops” He’d state firmly, pushing aside a rogue scroll before plucking up a pouch of coin hidden under the mess. With a single fluid motion he’d toss the brown leather pouch over his shoulder, vaguely registering the small clink of the contents as she captured it in her hands. “Please, just stay where you’re at, behave yourself. That’s all I ask, Fenny.” His voice would dip down, gentle and honest. His eyes were sweet and pleading as he looked back at her. comforting while also being infuriating to those in the know. 

In this case Fenneth was the only one in the know, seeing as he only used it on her

“I hate when you do that, you know.” The elven sibling would puff out her chest.

“And yet it works every time.”

“Orem, no. Listen to me this time!” Giving a shake of her head Fenneth would toss the coin on the ground, kicking the payment for the crops off in defiance. 

That gentle expression would turn sour as his sibling blatantly defied him. It was always like this, she just wouldn’t listen to reason. Always wanted to get into some sort of fight. Couldn’t she just see he wanted what was best for her? Why did it have to always be war and battle with Fenneth?

“I’m not talking about this anymore.” Oremay would dismiss.

“The others believe in me” Translation: Solas had been filling her head with defiance “Why can’t you just do the same? I’m not a little girl.”

The humor of that wasn’t lost on Orem, but he’d be damned if he’d offer her any sort of familiarity with laughing. “You’re speaking too much with Varric and Solas. I don’t like how they encourage this.”

“Oh, and what? you’ll just keep me in a gilded cage the rest of my life? While you’re out here risking your life every fucking day? Orem, you’re not being fair!”

“This discussion is over, Fenneth. Leave. Now.” Venom dripped from Orem’s voice as he spoke, and for a moment he felt a pang of guilt. He felt like he’d just kicked his best friend in the gut and that he owed an apology. Why?

His younger sister, full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the world with a smile on her face now looked at him with a look of anger, of hurt. Forest eyes would gloss over and tears would threaten to spill out over rosy cheeks, flush with frustration. Stepping forward Orem could only reach out for her, missing entirely as she dodged and stormed out of his cabin leaving the older sibling alone.

“It’s never easy with you…”

\---------------

Days would drag on. Or, did it really? How did one keep track of time when they were busy with life? Truth is Orem knew it had only been a day since the fight. Didn’t make it easier. He still felt like shit.

Stepping from his abode, the Qunari man would wince gently as the morning sun shone through the sky. Perhaps he should change his candles soon..too many had fizzled out and left him in a dimly lit abode. 

Stepping lightly, Oremay would rub his neck before trekking off, feet carrying him towards the tavern for something other than the stale water he kept in his room.

Varric was quick to stop him, or at least join him in his way. “Heard from the kid that you had a fight. You should cut her some slack. She only wants to help.” The blonde dwarf would rumble idly as he adjusted his sleeves. Catching the look of irritation from Orem he’d quickly raise his hands in his defense. “Look, not trying to start a fight. Should have seen her, didn’t know she could drink that much.”

“Maker-- she didn’t.” Orem would pause his step, face twisting into disbelief. “Tell me Fenny didn’t go straight there afterwards. Is she still--” His words would trail off, only to be silenced by a solemn shake of Varric’s head. 

“Nah, the princess went home midday yesterday. Stayed with Chuckles.”

“great. Wonderful.”

“Take it you’re not happy with him either.”

Hands would slap dully on sides as the grey skinned man allowed his head to drop back in defeat “You haven’t the faintest.” 

“I see. Care to enlighten me? You know, since you won’t talk to anyone else about all of this.” Varric would gesture to all of Orem. Right down to his tense stance. Funny a rogue would be so pent up.

Scoffing and turning Orem would push on, eventually passing through the doors of the tavern with Varric close on his heels. Plopping down onto a seat in the far corner, he’d notion to the barmaid who was busy chatting with one of the newer members- Sera. As lovely as it was to have Varric around, a second rogue to trade tips with was lovely. “I’m trying to keep her from wandering off, and Solas seems to be making things difficult. I was the only one suited for mercenary work, and that’s how I landed myself here. Mother and I agreed that she had too much…”

“Pep in her step?”

“yes! Exactly! She’s careless, and that’s dangerous. Fenneth throws herself into a fight without second thought and she’s going to get herself killed.” A pint would be placed before Orem and the Qunari would gratefully dive into it, washing away worries with long since stale ale. Beggars can’t be choosers in these times. He was lucky enough to get this. Swallowing hard the taller man would grunt in appreciation before continuing “If I took her out, sent her off with a mission, what am I going to do when she doesn’t return? How should I tell my darling mother that her only daughter is dead?”

“That’s a hard one.” musing slightly Varric would hum, stroking his stubble thoughtfully. “Can’t help you there, Bigs.”

“So you see my dilemma.”

A strangled sound would fall from the dwarf’s lips as he tilted his head slightly in thought “I didn’t exactly say that.”

“You disagree?”

“Didn’t say that either. I think you’re making things too complicated. Refusing to give a shot before the worst happens. I think you need to think in the now.” Motioning to the barmaid the dwarven rogue would call for his own drink. “See, I see it like this: The kid wants to help, right?

Orem would nod gently.

“Well, then let her help. Put her through training drills, send her off with a group, see how that tickles her fancy. Best case scenario you’ve successfully trained the kid to fight, worst case she gives it up in favor of her old life. Win win.” The second his drink was delivered the smaller inquisition member was quick to dive into it, taking a sip and motion to Orem to see if he caught his drift.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Isn’t it, though? Because if you want my advice, Tiny’s group could be a useful asset while we figure out this whole breach mess out.”

Orem wasn’t sure if he liked that idea, but he couldn’t deny that on some level Varric was right. This would keep her out of his hair and ensure she was taken care of. Knowing his sister she craved adventure, but lacked the knowledge on how to obtain that let alone the skills. So if he gave her what she wanted there was a chance to nip it in the bud and resolve this whole mess. Fenneth wasn’t likely to keep on with the mess so long as she realized how difficult this would really be. It would also keep Solas and her apart until he could speak to the mage about the topic. Solas was set in his ways, but he wasn’t unreasonable. If anything Orem had a better chance of working through this if the two elves were apart.

“I think you may have a point.” Orem would pointedly say as he took a drink of the sour liquid in his cup.

A small smile would play on square features as Varric would nod “I usually am. You all should consider listening to me more often.”

\---------------------------------

The sound of a hart snorting against reigns as he lugged along filled the air, large hooves would press into the snow crunching down against the bitterly frozen earth. Up the hill the tired looking form of a certain blonde elf would rise over the hill, slowly but surely. Fenneth looked bundled up more than she would be, and honestly? Orem couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor thing from his vantage point.

Leaning against the stables, the Qunari would turn his gaze towards the recently acquired mercenary group, all of which were busy at work packing armor and supplies away. Their leader would oversee it, making sure everything went according to plan before casting a withering glance at Orem’s direction.

In Orem’s defense, this wasn’t the ideal plan. Hell as it was right now, Bull wasn’t happy that the plan for the main group was to head off and obtain the templar’s assistance. He also wasn’t pleased to play baby sitter for Fenneth.

Truth be told Orem hadn’t cared less about how he felt. All that mattered was that Fenneth was taken care of, that she was protected and that any notion of going off to fight the inquisition’s battles were squashed before it even started.

The second Fenneth caught sight of her brother, a small scowl would play on her features before snapping her head forward and acting as if she hadn’t seen him. The Hart would pull the wagon over, halting just before Orem before the Elven woman would push herself off with a small thud. Business as usual would ensue as she went about her usual business unloading and setting the crates down. To Orem’s surprise the charger that he had spoken to would move swiftly to her side, cracking a joke between the two of them that seemed to melt the cold expression of Fenneth’s face before he made a show of picking up a crate.

Orem pushed off his post, stepping casually to his sister’s side. “Hello, Fenny.”

“Oremay.” if looks could kill, Orem was certain his sister would have slit his throat with hers by now.

“Don’t be so grumpy. I come bearing gift.” he smirked.

“I don’t want your coin..Your lunch is in the cart. Get it yourself.”

“Fenny. Don’t you want to hear me out?”

Pausing her step Fenneth would turn and glare hard at her brother, standing several heads shorter than him and twice his size in defiance.

Poor Orem would raise his hands in defense offering a placating smile. It did little to help his cause, but he’d still try anyways. With a small scoff, Oremay would offer an eye roll as he followed the smaller sibling as she brought her delivery towards the gates “Don’t be like that. Please, Hear me out. I’ve decided to go ahead and okay you to work with the inquisition.” In an instant Fenneth’s step was halted. The blonde would turn to the other with a look of questioning disbelief. “I mean it, I do. You’ve been assigned to The Iron Bull for training. You leave today. A raven has already been dispatched to Mother.”

“You’re lying.” Fenneth accused, staring hard at her brother.

“I’m being honest. Trust me when I say the last thing I want is for you to die from inexperience in the field.”

“And Experience you’ll get. Don’t think I’ll be going easy on you, though.” Bull would chime in, following closely behind Orem and crossing his arms over his chest lightly. “You’re under my watch, you’ll be drilled as if you were a charger. No exceptions, no breaks. Think you can handle that, Princess?”

Even Orem could feel the tension grow as Fenn turned her gaze towards Bull in defiance and stared him down; or rather up, given her size difference. One thing Fenneth opposed with all her might was that she was a pampered princess. She was sheltered somewhat, true, but she was never one who wouldn’t shoulder her share of the work. She did right by their mother and the family, which was all she could ask for. The first time she met Varric he had been quick to learn that she objected to the name ‘princess’, scolding him and damn near throwing her drink onto the poor dwarf. If not for Bull’s unwavering stare and unphased expression Orem was sure that the small Elf would chuck the crate at him.

“Alright, fine. If this gets me into helping, I’ll do it.” She would huff after a short while of staring Bull down. Turning sharply she’d shove the crate into Oremay’s arms with a dangerous look. If looks could kill…

“I do. You have my word that if Bull gives the okay, you’ll be allowed to help the inquisition. Perhaps I can find a place for you on Cullen’s watch.” Orem would sigh softly, accepting the crate and hauling it into one massive arm. “Go ahead and rest from the journey, I’ll set up the hart to wait for you here and undo his wagon.” 

Fenneth would stare again, looking hard at her brother before the look would soften. Just like it had with Krem, that soured angry look melted away to reveal the softened woman under. She’d give a confirmation before turning on her heel, leaving the two men alone. 

“So what aren’t you telling me, Boss?” Bull would speak up once it was safe enough and he was sure Fenn wasn’t going to overhear. “She’s a good kid, flawed in her innocence, but good all the same. What’s your game?” Leave it to a Ben-hassrath to pluck at your heart strings and play on your guilt. Orem couldn’t help but offer a conflicted look of helplessness.

“She needs to learn. It’s not as fantastic a life as she imagines.” The younger of the two Qunari would answer.

“So you’re planning on my working her to the bone, huh?”

“Not exactly.”

“But close enough. Look, I won’t brutalize the poor kid. You need me to whip her into shape, I’ll give her a good licking and send her home. But-- if you want someone who can actually fight give me some time. Choice is yours.” Bull would shrug softly.

“Just...do what you think is right. Okay? I’ll keep in touch.”

“You got it, Boss.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**   
**“Beginnings”**

Two points to keep in mind at this current point in time, or, at the very least point Fenneth was going to keep in mind. Farming and lugging around a weapon were two entirely different things. Sure, she’d helped her brother pull plows when they were younger and would often help with shipments on her own, but walking with a massive weapon that dwarfed her body was ridiculous. 

It hadn’t even been the end of the first day and Fenneth could feel the strain on her back as she walked beside the wagon carrying their supplies. It was simple stuff, really. Bread, water, a small assortment of vegetables. Not really enough to feed the band of men and women that followed behind it. 

“This is bull shite.” The small sunkissed elf would puff her cheeks lightly.

A coars laugh would break her attention, distracting just enough to throw her balance off. Firm hands would catch her, pushing her right-side up again and ceasing the slow flail of one of her legs.

“You’re lifting with your back too much. Leaning forward will put strain on your back and wear you down quicker. Thought a farm girl should know at least that.” Krem would hum lightly as he gave her a gentle pat and rounded to walk with her. A quick once over told him all he needed to know of the little thing. She was far too inexperienced. Bull was going to eat her alive. “You’ll get used to the walking soon enough. It’s not so bad.” A light shrug would have the Elf groaning.

“I didn’t sign up to be a pack mule. This hammer is bigger than the one I would normally carry.”

“makes sense. You have to make due with what you have.”

Another groan would fall from Fenneth’s lips earning a small laugh from the mercenary. “Krem, tell me the truth, I’m not going to survive this. Am I?”

A small smirk would play on the male’s lips before he shrugged, the armor clinking together lightly as he did so “Hard to tell. For what it’s worth I think the chief can work that princess attitude out of you” He’d say simply while adjusting his own pack “But you have to take orders.”

“Krem’s right, he’s not going to work you to the bone, but you have to focus on the goal. Our ancestors could walk for miles and days without getting tired.” A voice would call from the wagon. A thin faced Elven woman would sit perched on the cart, directing the mule that pulled it. She was blonde, like Fenneth, but not as dark skinned as Fenny was.

A blink would tear through Fenneth’s expression before she would roll her eyes “Your ancestors.” She’d correct, as if she were scolding a particularly rambunctious child. Krem would quirk a brow before snorting out a laugh. Seemed he’d be doing that a lot. “What’s wrong Princess? Don’t consider the Dales your people?”

“Don’t call me that” The words came quicker than Fenn could stop them as she tried to restrain the twang of anxiety that welled in her chest towards those words. 

Calming herself she’d shrug, though it was clear to everyone around that she wasn’t having any of this. “No, I don’t. I used to think about it a lot as a child, but I don’t like thinking of me coming from anywhere else but the farm. I’m not Dalish, not a city elf...I’m just me. I may not look like my brother and mother, but they’re the only family I need to know.”

The other elf would pause, thinking deeply as she returned her gaze to the road. It wasn’t exactly the kind of silence Fenneth enjoyed, much less one she would seek out.

It wasn’t like when she mentioned this to Solas. She could tell he was disappointed in her, but applauded her willingness to learn about her people all the same. The stories they had to tell were unique and interesting, but that didn’t mean Fenneth particularly found a dire connection. Hell, it wasn’t until Solas spoke to her at length that she had even considered that she should know more than she did about the Dalish people.

“That’s a good way of thinking of things. Labels can be damning.” The other woman would state finally before cocking a smile Fenn’s way and winking. “Dalish, by the way.”

“As in you’re--”

“My name. Or-- the only one that matters to me.”

Krem would pipe up this time, tired of watching the two women go back and forth “You’ll find we give nicknames more often than not. Easier to call out something that sticks than to give away information about our members.” He explained simply, “You’ll get one too. That is if Princess doesn’t stick.” Dalish would laugh at that and all Fenny could muster was to look helplessly between the two. 

It wasn’t like she was opposed to the nickname. Or-- maybe she was? It felt weird being called something that should mean something. or maybe it meant nothing at all. 

Princesses were royal. They didn’t work the land or feed mouths. They just sat in gilded towers and looked down on the world. To be called something like that felt too much to her like she wasn’t doing her part. Like she wasn’t working every day out in the fields or shucking hay. It just felt..hollow. 

So yeah, maybe she picked on people who liked to remind her that she was smaller than her brother and couldn’t do as much. Giving them a hard time and being vocal was about the only way she could get any say in the matter. It wouldn’t have been an issue if people just took what she said seriously instead of assuming she was just Oremay’s pretentious kid sister.

“Don’t look so cross. You’ll get wrinkles.” Krem’s voice would ring out again causing Fenneth to snap her attention up before scowling.

“I was just thinking.”

“Not befitting a princess to think so much.”

“I’ll be hitting you in a second if you don’t stop.” His laughter would ring in her ears and cause the blonde elf to flush lightly. This was..interesting. It was light and fun. Easy to be with these people even if Fenn barely knew them.

“How about fox?” Dalish would chime softly, earning a look from the pair before Fenneth could barely hit the tavinter man.

“Fox?”

“Yes. Fennecs are common. Little foxes that run around and dig. Like your name-- Fenneth-- Fennec.”

“I..don’t hate that.”

“See, already fitting in!” The elven woman would chime playfully with a wink before minding her own once again and leaving Fenneth to think as she walked.

A soft warmth radiated in Fenn's chest as she chewed the inside of her lip. Fitting in. She didn't think she'd ever feel what that was like. It was a good feeling. Hopefully this trip didn’t kill that.

_________________

Night fell sooner than expected, and as such the group would stop for a short while, just outside of the mountains and now entering the hinterlands. Fenneth was thankful for the lack of snow clinging to her boots making her feet heavier than the hammer attached to her back. 

The various members of the chargers, of whom Fenneth had taken the time to learn, bouncing from one cart and horse to the next. Not all of them were willing to chat like Krem and Dalish, but they were more talkative than the Iron Bull was (If you could call the occasional grunt and brush offs talking at all to be quite honest). Fenn got the notion that the qunari man didn’t like her much. Or maybe it was that he didn’t like the assignment. In any case, people not liking her was a fact of life Fenneth had learned to live with.

As the carts would be undone, and people would begin unloading the bare essentials the blonde elf would thankfully unload her own burden, letting the heavy metal collide with the winter hardened earth below her.

stretching her back softly, the small elven girl could feel her back popping with each movement earning a small gasp and whine only to be assisted by a firm hand on the top of her spine between her shoulder blades. With a firm push. With it Fenn’s back seemed to crumble without actually falling apart earning a small cry. as she whipped around after a moment of grieving her injured back she’d come face to face with a human man. Stitches, she’d learned his name was during her prodding.

“You lift with your back too much and do it improperly.” He chuffed bluntly.

“Well s’cuse me! I didn’t--”

“Take this. apply to the tops of the shoulders, and for andraste’s sake lift with your knees.” with that a small black jar would be shoved into Fenn’s waiting hands. Even with the cover on it smelled horrible. 

Just like that he was off, lumbering to help unload the tents and to begin the process of set up leaving Fenneth standing there with a dumb look on her face. It wouldn’t take long before another figure would come up behind her, trailed by a second figure. Skinner and Dalish. Skinner was displeased to have another elf on board, but Dalish seemed to welcome Fenn. It was pleasant having someone who actually wanted her here.

and who didn’t act like she was a stupid girl or tease her.

“He likes you. He doesn’t say it, but he does.” Dalish offered with a small smile. “Chief says he needs to keep you on your feet, best not slack. Come with us to patrol the area.”

That sounded fairly easy. no muss no fuss. Fenneth could handle her own well enough in a fight, even if her brother refused to believe it.

Fenneth sighed and nodded “Sure can’t be too hard.” She’d reply.

_______________

Why was everything so hard?

The chargers didn’t do anything half assed, oh no. They did a full mile perimeter around the base camp. making sure to check everything and anything. The rock climbing wasn’t an issue. Fenneth and Orem had grown up around the cliffs and canyons not far off from Redcliffe, so she was accustomed to scaling rocks and moving over trees. It was the sheer amount of walking that did it for Fenn. How much walking did the chargers usually do? It was ungodly!

Somehow, Skinner and Dalish made it seem so much easier.

Huffing and awkwardly shifting her leg over a log Fenneth would slip, earning a small yelp as she fell onto the massive piece of dead wood with a ‘thunk’. With a small groan she would press her cheek to the dampened bark looking like an overworked dog than an elven girl.

Pausing up ahead Dalish would offer a sympathetic look, and Fenn knew she bit off more than she could chew. 

her limbs felt heavy as she slowly pushed herself up, sitting and huffing before looking up at the sky. Registering only the faintest footsteps from her new companion.

“You’re not used to walking so much?” Dalish asked.

“Not used to any of this.”

“Figured. You’re certainly not spoiled, but you’re not accustomed to soldier work.”

A bitter laugh fell from Fenneth’s lips as she carefully pushed her sweat soaked hair from her face. Funny how even with the bitter cold of the mountains wafting down into the lower areas she would be sweating like a pig. “Is it that obvious?”

“Clearly.” Dalish laughed. The sound dying down before becoming slightly more concerned “Why don’t you just go home? I mean that in the softest way. You- We’re not exactly going to go easy on you, you know.”

shifting slightly to swing her leg around Fenneth sat, patting her lap before hopping off the log and continuing on with Dalish lagging behind Skinner to keep with the new recruit.

“I can’t just let Orem do this on his own.”

“Orem..is the inquisitor?”

“he’s that, and my brother.”

“I think I heard that from Krem. So you’re looking to help your brother?”

“Something like that. He’s just--” Pausing Fenneth scrunched her face in distaste as she tried to formulate her words properly while walking “he does so much. He worries a lot as well. It’s always been him that does all the work for the family and I’m left behind. He’s in this mess because I was told not to go. I keep thinking that I’d be better off in his position so that he would have one less thing to worry about. Then there’s the people he works with, I see them and I think ‘I could be that’. It’s not that easy, though, yeah? I can’t just be something I’m not.” Her hands clapped against her thighs in frustration while rambling. The weight of everything spilled out into the bitter air.

the other elf remained quiet for a time before nodding in understanding “I think I see. You want to be more, but you also want to help.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I don’t think you need to be something else to offer your help. I think you’re just weighing it too heavily. Find something that makes the most sense for you and run with it.” Dalish explained, painting an image with her hands as she spoke. It was honestly charming to see and warmed Fenneth’s heart just a little. Her mother also did that. “In any case, I think you’ll figure something out. It just takes time is all. You’ve got plenty of that right now.”

From up ahead Skinner could be heard calling out, earning the attention of both women. Fenneth all but groaned as she watched Dalish dart forward with a kind of grace she may never have before she trailed along with her, eventually coming out into a small cliff clearing. From there one could see Redcliffe, see the rest of the hinterlands. It was impossibly vast. Even Fenn hadn’t seen all of it, and she grew up here.

“Looks like the coast is clear.” Skinner stated.

“Suppose we can go back now” Dalish added while tilting her head ever so slightly.

Fenneth barely heard any of the chatter. Something she was good at. There had to be something in there. something only she could do. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it was...but standing here, looking out at the hinterlands, seeing the barest hint of a smoke plume from a familiar spot, Fenneth felt it would all figure itself out.

“You can see my farm from here-- well...sort of. You can sort of see it.”

The two women paused their conversation, turning their gaze towards where Fenn was gazing out to.

“in the lowland mountains?”

Fenneth nodded.

“Sounds like a shite place to set up, if you ask me.” Skinner scoffed softly.

“My mother picked it because no one else went up there. She wanted a safe place to raise my brother.” Shrugging Fenn chewed the inside of her cheek. Maybe she should go home? Serem was there running the farm on her own, but...to leave Orem to fight demons alone felt just as wrong as not being home.

“She sounds wise.” Fenneth turned to Dalish as she spoke before offering a faint smile. Turning back and looking towards the smoke plume of the chimney Fenn would nod. “Well, in any case, we should be getting back to report in. Tomorrow we’re going into the hinterlands. Big search.”

With that other two would turn and leave Fenn staring off into the distance. Reluctantly she would slowly turn away to follow.

______________________________

Back at camp it was lighter, not that Fenn cared all that much. Her feet ached and she wished more than anything to rest. The warmth of the fire was certainly more alluring, though, and she could smell stew simmering away.

As they stumbled back into camp, a few others would notice, but most were either retiring to their beds after having eaten. Krem sat, speaking quietly to Bull with a blanket folded neatly in his lap. The smaller of the pair would cast a small glance towards Fenneth before scooting over slightly and nodding.

“you look tired.” He chimed watching as she slumped into the seat on the hastily cut log he had been perched on. Without a word he slid the blanket onto her lap.

Bull rumbled out a laugh, raising a brow ever so slightly at Krem’s observation “Second thoughts? Wouldn’t blame you if you decided to go home.”

“not on your life” Fenn huffed, accepting the blanket and revelling in the scratchy wool that offered her warmth.

Bull shrugged “Suit yourself. I won’t lie to you, This isn’t intended to be a cake walk. You’re going to be worked hard, but looked after better. We take care of our own.” He’d breathe.

“I figured. Half way back I kind of thought Orem did this because he’d think I’d give up.”

Krem all but choked on air as he turned to look at her like she had three heads and called herself andraste’s third tit. “And you didn’t stop and think you should go home?” He’d ask. Fenneth would snort and roll her eyes. Of course she had thought of that, but she wasn’t about to let anyone else know that. 

“absolutely not. He’s an ass if he thinks he can just get rid of me.” Bull couldn’t help but snort out a near hysteric laugh at that, bellowing out as he shook his head at Fenneth’s words.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll admit that. Reminds me of Krem when he first started.”

“Eh, difference is I was already accustomed to being a soldier, Chief.”

“All the same, you were a bastard to train and you never gave up.” Bull’s laugher died down as he offered a small pat on Krem’s back. “I admire that in a soldier. Tenacity is a rare find.”

Krem would chew his lip before nodding in agreement. “I’m turning in for the night. We’re heading down tomorrow, right?” Krem rang out as he stood, brushing against Fenneth’s side as he did so.

“Right. Got something to look into for the big man. From what Leliana informed it should be important we look into it. Grey wardens don’t just up and disappear.” Bull nodded softly watching the smaller man rub his shoulders, wary from the armor he still wore. Fenneth thought it was strange how Krem relaxed with it on but didn’t ask too much of it. Sometimes you just have to leave things as they are.

“You’re rooming with me, make sure not to stay up too much longer.” The tevinter man would chime before patting Fenn on the back and retiring to his tent.

She’d only watch for a moment before turning back to the fire and grunting. So, a grey warden? That seems...interesting.


End file.
